Misfortune's Destiny
by Taethowen
Summary: (Temporarily on hold. Will be updated again in May, see profile for more info, if you're interested.) A series of connected one-shots exploring Hohenheim & Trisha's relationship. Will draw from both Brotherhood and the manga.
1. Unpredictable

**Unpredictable**

* * *

The two children were playing in the corner in what Van Hohenheim assumed was a quiet manner.

Quiet for children, anyway.

Pinako's son, Urey, was rambunctious and enthusiastic as he tried to gain his playmate's undivided attention, but Urey's younger cousin, Trisha Elric, was soft-spoken and gentle as she cradled her ragdoll in her arms.

Hohenheim wouldn't lie – children frightened him. In his four centuries, they were the one thing he could never predict. What he could do, though, was win this hand of poker. Pinako and Stefan, her brother-in-law, had excellent poker faces. His just happened to be better, and he knew he held the winning hand.

Then the unpredictable happened.

Urey was, evidently, at that age where girls weren't quite gross yet, they were just pretty. And what did one do with a pretty girl? Marry them, of course!

Almost-eleven-year-old Urey was attempting to propose to six-year-old Trisha. It wouldn't have been a big deal if Trisha hadn't said no, and if Urey hadn't kept trying to change her mind.

"Stop asking!" Trisha finally yelled.

If Trisha was yelling, she was upset. The adults all looked up from their poker game, falling silent as they glanced to the corner to see if intervention and separation would be required.

"I don' wanna marry you when we grow up." Trisha's eyes flashed and her face twisted in disgust. "You're pretty much a brother."

Stefan paled. It didn't matter that Urey was only eleven. No one was going to force his little Trisha to do anything.

No one could have predicted what came out of Trisha's mouth next, though, as a soft blush colored her cheeks and a shy smile flitted across her lips.

"Besides," her warm hazel eyes flickered up to meet Hohenheim's, "I'm going to marry Mr. Van when I grow up."

Hohenheim paled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stefan's face flash from pale to purple in less than a second.

"Guess even Urey is too young for her tastes!" Pinako cackled around her pipe.

Hohenheim folded his cards that round.

* * *

Author Note:

Edited to change Trisha's eyes from brown to hazel - read somewhere online that they were brown and didn't have time to find a good picture from the anime, and when I re-watched an episode the next day . . . lo and behold, they were GREEN. So, I'm pulling a trick from my own hat here. I have green/brown hazel eyes that I can make appear one color or the other depending on my make-up/color of clothing, so we're going to pretend Trisha's eyes are like that too, okay?

:D


	2. Almost Home

**Almost Home**

* * *

Once, so long ago, before the Dwarf in the Flask cursed him, Hohenheim had a home. He may have started his life out as number 23, but Xerxes had still been _home_. His master had, for the most part, been a fair man – it hadn't been unusual to hear of slaves killed for learning to read and write. Master had taken him as an apprentice instead.

Hohenheim had taken to learning like a fish to water. It didn't matter if the subject was literature, alchemy, or calculus – he devoured it all.

And he'd thought of the Dwarf in the Flask as his brother.

What a blind fool he'd been.

Xing had almost felt like home, but Hohenheim didn't dare return there. Not after he'd become immortalized as the Western Sage. The stories – and even accurate icons – still permeated Xingese culture 400 years later.

No, Xing could never be home, even though it had been a respite after Xerxes.

But Resembool . . . Resembool had felt more like home than Xing ever had.

Always before, when he'd stop in a town for more than a month, the people there would ignore him. It didn't help that he always spooked the animals. Oh, the people would take his money, and ask how his day was, but no one ever bought him a drink or invited him to join a card game.

Not until Resembool, when a petite firecracker named Pinako pushed past the chills that his presence seemed to generate and broke through the walls he'd erected.

He'd stayed in Resembool far too long. He'd grown complacent, because, for some reason, the souls inside him quieted in Resembool.

Perhaps it had been the simplicity of life in a small country village, or the pastoral scenery surrounding them. Whatever the cause, Resembool was the balm to every soul within him, but especially his own.

So much so, that Hohenheim had actually forgotten – for one blessed evening – the horror he carried inside him.

_I'm going to marry Mr. Van when I grow up._

Those were the words that had re-awoken the one soul whose vices and pleasures Hohenheim would never – _could never _– indulge.

The man who'd liked to play with little girls.

Trisha – precious, innocent Trisha – was suddenly the star of the most horrific fantasies Hohenheim had ever heard.

That was why, in the dark hours before dawn, Hohenheim packed his bags and snuck out of Pinako's home.

The half a million souls inside him were no longer silent, either, and he was ever so grateful that they'd all come to the defense of little Trisha. But he couldn't stay in Resembool any longer.

He wanted to remember Resembool as his place of peace.

He would post a letter to Pinako at the next train station. It would not do to abandon his only friend without a farewell.


	3. Someday

**Someday**

* * *

The letter arrived two days after his disappearance.

Pinako had known since the beginning that something was different with Hohenheim, but she had forced herself to look past the shivers running up and down her spine.

She was the Panthress of Resembool, after all, and some shivers weren't going to stop her. Too bad those were the wrong kind of shivers.

Something that Trisha had said upset him. Pinako had observed enough men to know the intricacies of their body language. Hohenheim had put up a good front, but she'd seen the way his shoulders fell and his eyes pinched around the corners.

And then to wake up in the morning and find him gone, not even a note.

And now this letter.

She would guarantee that he hadn't actually said a thing he wanted to say, until the very end.

_I shouldn't come back, but I will, Pinako. Eventually._

_Somehow you've turned Resembool into a place that feels like home to me. It's been far too long since I had one, and I can't find it in me to give it up._

He'd signed off with simply his name.

Every day, when Stefan brought his daughter by for dinner – he was a lousy cook, and she wasn't about to let her brother and niece starve since Amity had passed in childbirth – Trisha had asked where Mr. Van was, and when he was coming back.

At least now Pinako could tell her "someday, when you're older".


	4. Nightmares

**A/N:** Sorry this update took so long, it just wasn't cooperating with me for a while.

* * *

**Nightmares**

* * *

Trisha never had nightmares – at least not the way her playmates described them. Her dreams weren't the same as theirs, either.

Her dreams were more like glimpses into lives – usually just her own, but she dreamed of her mother too. Except she couldn't even remember her mother – she had died birthing Trisha. And sometimes, she dreamed of a sunny-haired girl with eyes like the sky that finally tore Urey's heart away from hers. _Finally._

But most of all, she dreamed of golden eyes and hair that belonged to a tall, strong man that she barely remembered meeting.

Those golden eyes changed in her dreams. Her earliest _true_ memories of them were . . . unknowing. To him, she was the niece of a friend, nothing more.

In her nightmares, those eyes were tormented. Swirling crimson shadows with screaming voices of pain and anguish and despair haunted their depths, but she couldn't understand them.

She only knew that they came from within him.

But in her dreams, his eyes were those of a lover. They always had been, since the first time she met him. Even if she was only six when they started.

That's how she knew she was going to marry him. It helped that he was handsome, too, and only grew more so to her as she grew older.

And he was there, with her, in those dreams. Holding her, kissing her. Cradling two small boys in his arms after falling asleep by the window.

Boys that looked more like him than her, but there was enough of her in them to know that the boys were _theirs_.

She'd had dreams come true before, but these were the hardest to wait on. They were years away, she knew that.

She was only eleven, after all.

And he wasn't here. Hadn't been since she was six.

Where was he?

Aunt Pinako didn't know, or didn't say. Trisha couldn't tell, her poker face was far too good for a young girl.

If only her dreams would tell her when he was coming back . . .

All they ever told her was that he would.

Hopefully soon.


	5. Almost

**Author Note: **Sorry it's taken so long for this to go up! There may not be any more updates until December, because NaNoWriMo is practically upon us, and since I'm a Municipal Liaison in my region and a forum moderator, my time is shot. Did I mention the writing that I'll be doing too? If any of you are doing NaNo, or are just curious, I'll be posting daily updates on my blog in November (writing original fiction - fantasy - the link to my blog is in my profile), and my NaNo username is the same as my one if you want to look me up.

So, don't count on any updates in November. There may be one or two, but don't hold your breath.

* * *

**Almost**

* * *

Trisha's encounters with Mr. Van – she wouldn't ever be able to think of him as Mr. Hohenheim, that name was simply too much of a mouthful – could be measured in _almosts_.

She was _almost_ six when she'd announced in front of her cousin, aunt, and father that she was going to marry Mr. Van.

Her father hadn't stopped asking her questions for days about what Mr. Van had said to her, if he'd made her any promises, if he'd . . . touched her.

Trisha patiently explained, over and over again, that it was simply something she'd dreamed. Father thought she meant daydreams, but when Aunt Pinako overheard them once, Trisha saw the look in her eyes as her aunt pulled Father away.

"Stefan, stop pushing her. Don't you remember my sister? Your _wife_? She had the same kind of dreams, too."

Trisha knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but they hadn't moved very far away from her, or shut the kitchen door. She _almost_ got up and went to her room.

"Hohenheim needs someone," Aunt's voice quieted slightly, "He's alone. I can see the despair in his eyes . . . I can't get him to tell me what on earth haunts him, but when Trisha's around . . ."

Father let loose a word that Trisha was positive she should forget.

"Stefan! I know that Hohenheim would never harm Trisha, and so do you! Stop assuming the worst."

"This is my little girl, Pinako."

Trisha jumped when Aunt snapped, "And Amity was my little sister. And you, the doctor, couldn't save her when Trisha was born. Hohenheim needs Trisha, brother. Don't let your fears of the future rob her – or him – of the greatest thing that might ever come into their lives."

Trisha almost wanted to forget that she had overheard that conversation.

Almost.


	6. Dance, Part One

Finally an update! Sorry it's been so long, my only excuse is NaNoWriMo and then holidays and family drama _. So much drama . . . I hope all of your holidays went better than mine!

This story is now also up on AO3 (Archive of Our Own), my screenname there is the same as here. There will be future chapters of this story that will be edited here, and, well, not so edited there. For content. My chapters will always be edited for grammar (to the best of my ability).

Thank you to BlackkFalconn, Firenze2000, RedUmbrellas, Spiritrain, Wolf by Night, arablover, bfungus, thedancingcrown, JerichosPhantom, Loverofheroes, and Tonnerre for putting Misfortune's Destiny on your alerts, faves and/or reviewing! It means a lot :).

Without further ado, the next chapter . . .

* * *

**Dance, Part One**

* * *

It's been four years since Mr. Van was in Resembool. Trisha isn't sure if she really remembers him, as much as she remembers her dreams of him.

She almost doesn't believe it when she spots a golden-headed man sitting in the shadows just outside the fire's light. Then, between quick glances as she's passed from arm-to-arm in the children's circle dance, she glimpses Aunt Pinako carrying a mug of ale over to the man, and suddenly Trisha was certain that it was Mr. Van.

She's dreamed of dancing in his arms, but it takes several songs before she can work up the courage to approach them.

And she wanted to get away from Urey. He didn't bother her as much as he used to, but it was still enough to be annoying. It was getting awkward to figure out how to brush off his flirtations.

If only that girl she'd dreamed about for him would hurry up and get here.

The song finally ended, and Trisha slipped out of the circle, ignoring Urey's protest. As the music faded quietly away in the distance, Trisha could hear Mr. Van speaking softly, followed by her aunt's quiet chuckling, and suddenly the girl couldn't hold in her excitement anymore.

Her feet suddenly had wings, and before she quite realized it was happening, Trisha found herself standing in front of Mr. Van and Aunt Pinako, her hand extended to the older man.

She blurted out the first thought that came to mind. "Hey, come dance with me!"

Aunt Pinako gave that funny-sounding grunt that meant she was trying not to laugh. "You're quite popular with the ladies, aren't you, Hohenheim?"

Trisha hoped the shadows hid her suddenly-too-red face.

"You can dance by yourself."

Trisha felt her face redden further, her hand sinking a little from its upraised position. "It's no fun dancing by myself."

Aunt Pinako never missed an opportunity to egg Mr. Van on. "This old codger can't do anything fancy like dancing, he might break a hip. Go back and dance with the other children."

A glance at Mr. Van said that she wouldn't get any further with him tonight. He had the look on his face that reminded her of father when there was no way she would convince him otherwise.

Trisha huffed, spun around on one heel, ran off. Not to join in the dancing again - she could hear Urey calling out for her to come back - but to sit by herself, and try to get her face to cool down.

And to try not to cry.

She just wanted Mr. Van to be happy.

She wanted to dance in his arms and see him smile.

* * *

Inspired by Episode 27 of Brotherhood.


	7. Dance, Part Two

Okay, just a head's up - this is where the M rating definitely starts coming into play. So, if you're underage, you shouldn't be reading this anyway.

Also, if it's been a while since you've read any of MD, I recommend going back and reading chapter 2 (Almost Home), because there's some references to things that happened in that one.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Dance, Part Two**

* * *

Why would she want to dance with _him_? But at every festival, for the last two years, little Trisha kept asking him to dance. Every year he refused, and eventually he didn't miss the look of sympathy Pinako would give her niece after every quiet _no_.

But this spring . . . everything was different, and Hohenheim couldn't quite grasp why. Not until the voice that made him run away when Trisha was six spoke up again.

_Tch, she's getting _breasts_. You should've taken advantage of her long ago. Now she's ruined. And she won't be nearly so tight anymore._

Hohenheim paled, and was very grateful Pinako had not yet joined him in their usual spot by a little distance away from the fire. Because, suddenly, his eyes were drawn to Trisha.

For years, he'd only allowed himself to think of her as Pinako's little niece. When he was away, traveling, he always envisioned her as the six-year-old girl Urey had tried to propose to. Now, he realized that while she was still unspeakably _young_, she was certainly not six years old anymore.

And thank the Truth for _that_, because it appeared his pedophile interloper was finally losing interest.

This spring, instead of joining the younger children in their circle dances and rough-housing, Trisha was one of the older girls lingering around the edges of the children's area, making sure the rough-housing didn't go too far.

Hohenheim glanced around to check if Pinako was anywhere in sight, relieved to see she wasn't. He let his gaze wander back to Trisha, observing her thoughtfully.

No, she definitely wasn't a six-year-old anymore.

Her face was still soft and round like a child's, but her arms and legs were longer, starting to turn into lithe, shapely limbs. Hohenheim almost blushed as his eyes fell to her chest, and he realized that _yes_, there were soft buds of barely-there breasts trying to peak through the fabric of her button-up blouse.

When had she started wearing blouses, instead of pull-over chemises? For that matter, when had she stopped wearing cut-off drawers and started wearing _skirts_? Skirts that wrapped around wide hips, the material tugging and swaying whenever she took a step, hems falling just below her knees, and teased the skin over her calves with brushing kisses.

Her delicate ankles shifted and swayed with grace and precision when she walked, and Hohenheim forced his eyes to look back up at her face, and then he _did_ blush because her gaze collided with his. He couldn't tell if she blushed back _because_ of his blush, or because he caught her looking. The sun was rapidly setting, after all. It was dusk. Not every detail could be seen, and his eyesight was better than most because of the Philosopher's stone.

Trisha turned to one of the other girls, and Hohenheim watched her lips move, words silent from this distance. Not even_ his_ hearing was that good. But when she turned and headed in his direction, he blushed deeper, and cast another glance around for Pinako.

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or nervous that the woman was nowhere in sight.

"Auntie's not coming tonight, Urey wasn't feeling well."

Hohenheim jumped. How had Trisha traversed the clearing so quickly?

Trisha shrugged. "I saw you kept looking around."

"Thank you."

Trisha smiled softly, a shy look in her eyes. She seemed to be measuring him up, debating whether to speak or leave.

"I know every year you say _no_," she started talking, and his eyes were drawn to the way her fingers interlaced and twisted, knuckles turning white from pressure, "but it's my birthday today. And I would really like to dance with you. And you don't have to say yes, and I'm only asking for one dance . . ."

She bit her lip, blushing bright red again. "I'm rambling. Please make me shut up."

Her birthday? How old was she now - twelve? Thirteen? Hohenheim bit back a harsh chuckle as he realized even Pinako was too young for him. Did technicalities even matter anymore?

But then he took in her bright, hopeful gaze. Yes, the technicalities _did_ matter. Because even if he was four centuries old, she still had some growing up to do.

But maybe, just maybe, she was worth the wait. Because he could certainly afford to wait. And she was certainly proving determined when it came to _him_.

Hohenheim stood up suddenly, brushing his pants back into place with his large hands, and realized that she was taller than he remembered. He still towered over her, but the top of her head was nearly the same height as his shoulders.

Why was he feeling the urge to wrap her up and take her away from everything and everyone that might threaten her? Even himself.

A memory flashed through his mind, of Trisha's father. Of the expression on Stefan's face that day six years ago when Trisha announced she was going to marry Mr. Van. Was Stefan here tonight? Would his face churn with that vivid red-purple rage again?

Just one dance; a birthday dance. He could give her that. Then he would leave.

"Well then, Miss Elric," he held out his hand to her, "May I have this dance?"

Her face flushed again, eyes dancing.

"Of course, Mr. Van. I thought you'd never ask."

_Just one dance_, he told himself.

But when it ended, he found it was far too short.

* * *

Sorry for the update taking so long! I've had a bit on my plate the past month or so - I've been frantically editing my NaNoWriMo novel, because I've made it to the final round of a contest that could end in a publishing deal! If you'd like to know more, visit my blog (link on my profile). Just select the post with the giant banner when you get there, and it has all the details!


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